


No straight person reads Donna Tartt

by elliot_cant_write



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Chandler works at at coffee shop and mcnamara is a useless lesbian, F/F, coffee shop AU, jd and veronica are in a book club and its adorable, kind of, so at some point ive stopped capitalising the n in mcnamara and im too tired to fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:32:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliot_cant_write/pseuds/elliot_cant_write
Summary: Heather, you’re staring.”Mcnamara either seemed to not hear or not care, but regardless Chandler repeated herself.“Heather. Staring. You’re doing it.”“She’s so pretty though,” Mcnamara laid her head on the counter, blonde hair spread out around her like a halo. “Don’t you think she’s pretty.”aka Chandler regrets her choices in jobs and friends





	No straight person reads Donna Tartt

Heather Chandler was a very angry person. She was angry about a lot. The fact that she worked at a coffee shop. The fact that her friends were constantly there. The fact that she had customers. The fact that one of her friends had an obnoxious crush on one of her customers. 

“Heather, you’re staring.”

Mcnamara either seemed to not hear or not care, but regardless Chandler repeated herself. 

“Heather. Staring. You’re doing it.” 

“She’s so pretty though,” Mcnamara laid her head on the counter, blonde hair spread out around her like a halo. “Don’t you think she’s pretty.”

Chandler gave the girl Mcnamara was staring at an assessing look. “She’s okay.”

Mcnamara was unamused. “She’s pretty; you just don’t want to admit it.”

“Say pretty one more time, I dare you,” Chandler muttered, draggin a wet rag across the counter. “And please, move your hair so I can wipe up the counter.” 

Mcnamara had the decency to sit up and move her hair, but not the decency to stop staring. “Do you think that’s her boyfriend?”

“Trench coat guy?” Chandler raised a single eyebrow. “Please. He’s in here all the time and has zero social skills. I’d bet anything he’s single.”

“You never know,” Mcnamara said. “I’ve seen straight girls date some really ugly men.” She flopped back down onto the counter. “Oh, fuck. What if she’s straight?”

Chandler shook her head. “No, I saw her wearing plaid last week.”

“Heather, that’s just a stereotype. Not everyone who’s gay wears plaid.”

“You’re wearing plaid right now. Besides, I also saw her reading Donna Tartt.”

That perked Mcnamara up. “I’ve never met a straight person who reads Donna Tartt.”

Chandler finished cleaning the counters and switched to restalking the napkins, silverware, and sugars. “To be fair, the only person either of us know who has ever read a Donna Tartt book is Heather.”

“Who is hardly a straight person.” Mcnamara reasoned. “Ooh, when is Heather done with violin lessons? I have an idea.”

“Oh joy, another one.” Chandler said dryly. “Tell me, is this an idea more similar to the one to try to set Kurt and Ram up or the one to have the cheerleaders all dress in different colours to form patterns?”

“Which was less destructive?” 

“Cheerleaders.”

“Than that one.” Mcnamara took out her phone. “Just wait a minute, kay? Do your job or something.”

Chandler rolled her eyes, moving to clean out one of the coffee makers while Mcnamara tapped away at her phone, undoubtedly harassing Duke. Were there benefits to working back-counter? Yes, namely that she didn’t have to actually take people’s orders or interact with Martha Dum-whatever-her-name-is. Were there disadvantages to working back-counter? Yes, namely having to touch the gross-ass coffee makers. 

“Okay, I’m done!” Mcnamara said brightly, and suddenly the coffee maker lost what little importance it may have had. “Heather sent me notes on important things about Donna Tartt. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Chandler wanted to slam her head into a wall. “Heather. Babe. No.”

“Heather yes.” Mcnamara answered, already climbing off of her stool. She ran a hand through her hair. “Do I look nice?”

There was no talking her out of this at this point, so Chandler just sighed. “You look nice. Good luck.”

Mcnamara beamed and practically skipped over to where the girl and trench-coat guy were sitting.

Chandler watched her strike up a conversation with them, rapid hand movements accompanying every word. God, her friends were so annoying. 

•

Weirdly, Mcnamara’s conversation seemed to be going stunningly. Chandler could not hear them, but Mcnamara was sitting backwards in a chair she had pulled up to their table, and the girl seemed very engaged in their conversation. Not that Chandler was paying much attention. She certainly wasn’t ignoring ninety percent of her job to watch her weird friend try to get a girl. That was ridiculous. Oh, shit, Mac was coming back over.

Actually, scratch that; Mcnamara was skipping over. Clearly, things went better than she had thought they would. “Oh my God, Heather.” She leaned way over the counter, almost all the way to falling over top of it. “She’s so pretty. And smart. And cool.”

“Does she have a name?” Chandler asked, faking indifference. “Or did you forget to ask for that?”

“Her name is Veronica Sawyer and she gave me her number.” She said, practically bursting with happiness. “And I think I’m in love.”

“Sure, Heather.” Chandler glanced around to make sure nobody noticed that she, well, was totally neglecting her job. “Did you figure out if that guy is her boyfriend or not?”

“He’s not, I’m pretty sure. His name is J.D. and he’s her best friend and they have a book club.” Mcnamara picked up her bag from where she had left it on her formed chair. “Anyway, I have to go to the library and find every Donna Tartt book they have. Byeee!!” And she was gone, thus taking Chandler’s only excuse to not do her job with her. 

Chandler checked the clock hanging right above the door. Two hours until her shift ended and half an hour until Duke always showed up. Morale was low.

•

Awhile later, but not so much that Duke had showed up, Veronica’s friend (J.D.? J.C.? Whatever.) approached Chandler, looking remarkably uncomfortable. “Um, hi.” 

“Hello?” Chandler did not think that she gave him that much of a dirty look, but his taken aback expression implied otherwise. She sighed. “How can I help you?”

“Um my friend Veronica was wondering if, uh, your friend Heather maybe likes girls or if she just meant everything in like a friendly way?” He glanced back behind him and out of the corner of her eye Chandler saw Veronica give him an encouraging thumbs up. “Sorry if this is weird, but yeah…”

Chandler really hated her friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys this was so much fun to write. Like I'm sure I had some intention for it when I started it like three months ago but when I forgot this existed I also forgot what the plot was, so here we are. And everything I've been writing lately has been so serious and stressful (and everything I plan to write soon...) so this nice.  
> I love Donna Tartt.   
> Tumblr is penguinsarebetterthanpeople if anyone want to be annoyed by me more.  
> Thanks so much for reading!!


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